Sick
by bookwormgirlLH
Summary: When Murdock falls ill whilst flying a plane, Face finds himself having to fly it. But can the A-Team wake him up before they have to land, or will Face crash the plane ...
1. Sick

Murdock awoke as Face gently shook his shoulder, "Murdock, it's time to get up," he said softly, speaking to the drowsy captain like a child.

Murdock smiled, but as he tried to sit forward in his seat, his head began to pound painfully, and an aching pain shot through his body. Gritting his teeth, Murdock waited for the pain to ease, his days in Vietnam helping him hide his discomfort, but when the pain didn't go, Murdock hauled himself out of the van, smiling broadly at Hannibal, whose face showed that he could see through Murdock's false smile.

Looking around, Murdock saw an aeroplane and remembered what was going on - he was going to have to fly for six whole hours. Hannibal and Face dragged the already unconscious BA out of the van and into the plane, whilst Murdock, rubbing his throbbing forehead, sat down in front of the controls, glad to sit, for he was beginning to feel dizzy.

"Ready when you are, Murdock." Hannibal called from the back of the plane.

Murdock had flown hundreds of times in his life, but now, his headache was making it difficult to think, and he had to concentrate twice as hard just to get the plane off of the ground. By now, he usually would be making silly announcements on the radio in a stupid foreign accent, but Murdock felt so scared that he was going to pass out and crash the plane, that he kept his eyes fixed on control panel, having to squint as his headache caused his vision to blur.

Hannibal appeared behind the pilot, staring at his tense shoulders and trembling arms, "Are you alright, Captain?" he asked, genuine concern in his voice.

Murdock tried to turn his head to look at Hannibal, but was startled to find that his neck was so stiff that he couldn't move it. The sudden attempt at movement shot the pain down Murdock's neck, and he was unable to suppress a whimper of agony and fear.

Hannibal spoke over his shoulder to Face, "Murdock's sick."

Face came hurrying over, but Murdock tried to pull away from him, "I'm fine, Hannibal, never been better." He said weakly.

"What's wrong with him?" Face asked nervously - Murdock was his best friend and he didn't want anything bad to happen to him, especially not whilst they were in the air.

"Nothing." Murdock insisted, but he winced as another sharp pain pierced the continual dull pain in his head.

"From what I can see, he's got a killer headache and a stiff neck." Hannibal explained, desperately racking his brains for any medical knowledge that he could use to find out what was wrong with his friend.

Face rested his hand on Murdock's forehead before the pilot could resist. "You've got a fever, Murdock!" He cried.

"I'm fine!" Murdock yelled, sounding surprisingly aggressive, before his eyes rolled upwards and he fell forwards in his seat, unconscious. Face only just managed to stop him smacking his head into the control panel, but he was unable to stop Murdock's hands knocking the steering stick. The plane suddenly began to plummet downwards, as Face slapped at the pilots face in an attempt to wake him up, but Murdock stayed unconscious, and the plane hurtled down towards their almost certain deaths...


	2. unconscious

"Murdock!" Face shouted desperately, slapping the pilot hard across the face whilst keeping a tight grip on his arm to stop him falling off of his chair.

Murdock's eyes flickered open, and he stared up at Face, his eyes glassy. "What happened Faceman?" He whispered.

"You fainted Murdock - but we're plummeting and I don't know what to do and I think were gonna die!" Face suddenly cried, giving in to his terror.

"Calm down, Face." Hannibal said, his voice calm, but his face was tense. "But what do we do, Murdock?"

Murdock loosely gripped the steering stick, barely able to sit up, trying to pull on it, but he found himself too weak to do it, "Pull." He slurred, struggling to keep his eyes open.

"What?" Face asked, confused, but Hannibal understood; the Colonel covered Murdock's surprisingly cold hands with his own, and pulled the stick towards him as hard as he could, feeling a rush of relief as the plane began to climb again. Hannibal continued until he felt Murdock trying to push the stick, and slowly pushed it away from him instead, until the pilot whispered for him to stop, and the plane levelled out, back at its original altitude.

"That was a close one, 'eh Murdock?" Face said weakly, wiping his sweaty forehead on his sleeve.

The pilot looked terrible: his clammy face was deathly pale, but his cheeks were flushed with fever: his unfocused eyes were screwed up in the bright light; his whole body was trembling; his hands were freezing cold for someone feverish; and although his whole body was floppy and weak, his neck was so stiff that he couldn't let his head flop back against the headrest. But as Face spoke, Murdock slumped sideways, catching Face, who had let go of the pilot's arm in his distress, off guard, and hit the floor with a thud.

"Murdock!" Face cried, but Hannibal made him take the control stick, and knelt down beside Murdock himself, rolling the pilot onto his back.

Eyes half-open, Murdock spoke softly, voice slurring as if he was drunk - but his pain told the Captain that he was all too sober. "What's gonna happen to me Colonel - am I gonna die?"

"Of course not Murdock!" Face interjected furiously, "Don't you dare talk like that!" He knew that the pilot was only voicing his own worst ears, but hearing them aloud was too much for the Lieutenant.

Hannibal closed his eyes, running Murdock's symptoms through his head, trying so hard to diagnose his seriously sick friend that he could almost hear the cogs turning in his brain. _ A headache, stiff neck, fever, cold hands, sensitive eyes, what does it mean?_ he thought. A memory of his time in the field hospital in Vietnam suddenly flashed through his mind: _H e was laying back on his bed, trying to sleep, but the pain radiating from the bullet wound just above his knee was so intense that, despite the strong morphine the doctor had given him, Hannibal couldn't drop off. He heard the doctor speaking to a nurse as they stood over the patient in the next bed. The nurse described his symptoms, which were exactly the same as Murdock's, and the doctor, with a grave expression on his face, had diagnosed the man with meningitis. Despite the treatment, it was too late to dave the man, who died two days later. _Hannibal shuddered as he realised that Murdock may have meningitis too. _What if he dies as well. I can't let him die, but what can we do?_

_"_Murdock, I need you to stay with me, okay?" He said, trying to sound reassuring, but his voice was shaking. " Just keep those eyes open."

"Do you know whats wrong with me, Hannibal?" Murdock asked, vision so blurred that he couldn't see the Colonel's face, but able to hear the fear in the usually calm man's voice, which frightened him.

Hannibal took a deep, shuddering breath, but knew that he couldn't hide the truth from Murdock, or Face, "I think you have meningitis, Murdock." He said, unable to look at the pilot.

"What!" Face shouted, "He can't have Hannibal! He just can't! He'll die!" He clamped his hand over his mouth as he realised what he'd just said. "I-I didn't mean that, Murdock."

Murdock, struggling to stay conscious, let the tears begin to seep from his glassy eyes, "You did, Faceman. I know I'll die - a man at t-the VA had it, and she died, and she was in a hospital, not in the air." He babbled, sounding drunk, the terror visible on his sweaty face.

Hannibal leaped to his feet. _I'm not just going to let my friend die - I've got to do something._ "Face, lower us downa bit and look for a large, open space." He said, sudden hope making his eyes glint.

"Why?" Face asked, voice thick with suppressed emotion, pushing the control stick forwards slightly, letting the plane lose some of its altitude.

"We're gonna land this plane and get Murdock to hospital." Hannibal said firmly.

"Oh, thank you, Colonel!" Murdock cried deliriously, smiling broadly through his tears.

"I need you to tell Face how to land this plane, Murdock, can you do that?"

"yes, Hannibal." The pilot asked, before his eyelids slowly closed, breathing regulating, body relaxing.

"Murdock!" Hannibal shook him desperately, but the pilot didn't respond.

"It looks like we're on our own, Face." Hannibal said, gently patting Face on the shoulder.

They suddenly heard a familiar voice screaming from the back of the plane, "Hannibal, we're on a plane!" BA roared furiously from where he was tied up. "You lied to me!"

Face rolled his eyes, "Great," He said sarcastically, "this is all we need..."


End file.
